The Chamber Reopened (Dramione)
by Leather-and-Pearls
Summary: The war is over, but Voldemort isn't dead - not fully anyway. Draco has been entrusted to help bring the Dark Lord back by reopening the Chamber of Secrets in his last year at Hogwarts...but what will he do when it threatens a certain gorgeous Gryffindor Mudblood that he might be becoming slightly attracted to? Can he really put his past, duty, and breeding behind him for Hermione?


_**I do not own Harry Potter, which is intellectual and copyrighted material of J.K. Rowling. However, I do have a crazy imaginative mind and far too much time on my hands ;)**_

This is the prologue! :D Enjoy and review!

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"Get out of my home!" Narcissa growled at the rough-looking wizards trying to push their way through her front door.

"Now, now, Cissy," Fenrir Greyback smiled toothily; using the nickname her elder sister had called her during her life, "is that any way to treat old friends?"

Narcissa curled her lip in disgust and pulled her wand out of her dark robes. Filled with dark intentions, she brandished it threateningly, dangerously close to Fenrir's nose."_Friends_?" she spat, "Some friends you are - running away with your tail between your legs after the Battle of Hogwarts and leaving Lucius to Azkaban and its dementors!"

Fenrir gave the wand a short look, pushing it aside as if Narcissa was nothing more than a troublesome fly. "Lucius was a fool not to run when he had a chance. He knew what the Ministry had in store for the Death Eaters."

Narcissa's frowned deepened. "He was trying to protect his family! Something that _you_ obviously don't know anything about." Her insult flew to the wizard standing directly behind Fenrir.

Plieth Rosier's mouth curled upwards in a grim smirk. "If you are referring to-"

"I am referring to you abandoning Draco during the battle as well!" Narcissa seethed. "He could have died! You are his cousin."

"Second-cousin, once removed, actually." Rosier drawled lazily, leaning against the stone doorway to Malfoy Manor. "Not much of a blood-tie there, is it?"

"Why, _you little_-" Narcissa began, her mouth pinched in barely contained anger.

"It seems to me, Cissy," the third and last member of the group grinned from Fenrir's right, "that your family seems to need everybody else to take care of them. Tell me, when was the great Malfoy family reduced to a babble of sniveling _invalids_?"

"Watch your mouth, Carrow." Narcissa hissed at Alecto Carrow. She raised her wand again threateningly. "This family has more self-respect than you and that worm you call a brother could ever hope to have. Now I want all three of you off of my property immediately."

"What, are you going to hex us, dear?" Fenrir asked innocently, his teeth glinting in the light of the outside foyer lamp. "We just want to come in and have a nice little chat."

Narcissa's intention to harshly decline his request showed clearly on her face, but before she could speak, a deep, clear voice rang down from the grand staircase inside the manor.

"Who's there, Mother?"

"Damn," Narcissa breathed quietly as her son came into view. "Go back upstairs, Draco, it's nobody." She forced a smile on to her face as she turned to meet her son's silver eyes.

"Is that Greyback?" Draco asked coldly, catching a glimpse of the werewolf through the opened door, ignoring his mother's order.

"Yes, but-"

"What the bloody hell is he doing here?" Draco demanded. He strode over to his mother's side, looking at the trio outside suspiciously.

"Ah, Draco," Rosier said charmingly. "Just the lad we were looking to see."

"You will not get a chance to speak to him, I'm afraid." Narcissa said warningly, trying to pull Draco back into the house with a pale hand on his shoulder.

Draco shrugged his mother off. "What do you want?"

Fenrir smiled. "Why don't we talk inside?" he asked. "This Wiltshire air is quite cold, and I'm afraid I'll kill one of your precious little white peacocks if another one screams that god-awful screech at me."

As if on cue, one of the many albino peacocks strutting around the tall hedge up the Malfoy driveway let out an ear-splitting cackle. Fenrir raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Come in." Draco said finally, pushing the heavy mahogany door open further as he spoke.

Narcissa's mouth fell open a fraction. "Draco, darling, I really don't think -"

"It's okay, Mother." Draco said steadily, brushing his slightly overgrown blonde bangs out of his eyes. "You know they won't leave us alone until we at least hear them out. And I know how fond you are of our peacocks."

The wizards on the house's steps smiled in satisfaction, and each pushed past the Mrs. Malfoy to enter the foyer. Narcissa sighed in defeat.

"Thank you." Rosier nodded to Draco. The youngest Malfoy returned the gesture coolly.

"_Good boy_." Alecto said sarcastically as she passed into the home. She mimed patting him on the head like an obedient puppy, but quit with a smirk when she saw the murderous look in the boy's eyes.

Taking his mother by the elbow, Draco turned and walked down the long, gray stone entrance hallway, leading the wizards to the drawing room. Chandeliers hanging above them emitted enough light for the visitors to easily see the way as well as view the fancy portraits of pale Malfoy ancestors that adorned the walls.

"I swear, Draco," Narcissa whispered in annoyance, "Tomorrow I am finally de-charming that front gate. It was an _awful_ idea to charm it so that just _anyone_ with a Dark Mark could enter. The war is over and I don't want leftover scum polluting our home any longer."

"That would be a good idea." Draco murmured back. For a second he felt his skin prickle where the Dark Mark was still tattooed on his left forearm as his mother mentioned it. He pushed the feeling away, knowing it was only a mental lingering.

"And that snotty bitch Carrow is tracking mud through my hallway!" Narcissa whispered angrily, turning quickly to disguise who she was talking about. "Does she have no manners at all?"

"_Language_, Mother." Draco said softly, squeezing Narcissa's arm briefly so she'd know he was joking with her.

"This rug once belonged to Salzaar Slytherin…" Narcissa continued in annoyance as she signaled to house elf busy dusting the foyer's marble pillars to clean up the mud after Carrow.

Quickly, the group entered the drawing room. The walls were deep purple and the gray stone floor was covered in a huge, intricate, plush rug. The long, ornate table that had once been the meeting table for the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord had been removed and Malfoy Manor's original expensive furniture stood in its place. Although the room was drafty from the cool stone, Draco led his mother and the wizards to the chairs by the marble fireplace, where a crackling fire took much of the chill out of the air.

"I see you had the chandelier repaired." Rosier grinned handsomely, motioning to the massive structure of glass, crystal and silver that hung from the high ceiling.

Narcissa nodded, remembering all too clearly the bitter night before the war when Potter and his friends managed to escape from the cellar and how his horrid little house elf had reduced the priceless family heirloom to millions of shards. "You can't let good crystal go to waste." she said simply, shrugging her thin shoulders.

Draco was quiet as his mother and the wizards sat down in the rigid-backed chairs before the fireplace. He remained standing, leaning back, supporting himself with his elbow propped upon the marble mantelpiece. "Speak." he said finally, as silence descended over the room.

Narcissa felt a twinge of pride in her chest. After the war and Lucius' imprisonment, her only son had taken his role as the man of the home to heart. He had gained maturity and had become increasingly level-headed and strong. However as she thought to herself, the twinge of pride morphed into a prick of sadness, as she remembered all that Draco had lost in this last year.

Fenrir steepled his fingers in front of his face. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and the hair on the back of his hands was longer than normal. Draco deduced that the full moon wasn't too far away.

"It would seem...that the Dark Lord still needs our help. _Your _help, to be specific."

Draco frowned, witnessing his mother's poisonous glare from the corner of his eye. "The Dark Lord is dead." he stated dryly.

"What if I told you that wasn't entirely true?"

"Fenrir, I am in no mood to play 'what-if' games with you," Draco said firmly. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Say what you came here to say."

Rosier cut in excitedly. "He isn't completely gone. There was another one made."

"Another what?"

Narcissa breathed in sharply, already knowing what the thin man was about to say. Fear shone in her eyes.

"Another Horcrux."

Draco's gut clenched, but he refused to let it show. "You are mistaken. We saw him die. His curse rebounded off Potter's."

Alecto laughed. "Oh, you saw him _fall. _But what about his _body_?"

Draco's mouth was set in a firm line. "It...it was moved. Into a chamber by the Great Hall."

Fenrir grinned wickedly. "Where I waited for him."

Draco and Narcissa's heads snapped towards the werewolf as he spoke. "There is _another _kind of Horcrux." Fenrir said simply. "A life must be taken to create a Horcrux, but in the moments before the soul enters Limbo, scraps of the soul can be taken and preserved. With a blood sacrifice, of course." The werewolf held up his forearm to display a jagged, roughly-healed cut that ran down its length.

"Are you saying the Dark Lord is in _Limbo_?" Draco asked, his pale brow slightly wrinkled in confusion.

"Part of him." Rosier explained. "Most of him, actually. But a few shards of his soul remain here on Earth, and if given time and a few simple...shall we say, _ingredients_...they can strengthen."

"But it couldn't bring his body back, can it?" Draco asked after a moment. "It is surely rotted in some grave by now."

Alecto shrugged. "It could attach itself to a host body. Remember your Professor Quirrell? Or it could manifest itself into a new body. Or, even, he could rise in the rotted body again…decaying dangling body parts and all."

Draco shook his head. "This isn't possible. None of this is possible." He pushed his overgrown white-blonde bangs back as he tried to process all this information.

"You never did score your top marks in any Dark Arts courses." Alecto said dryly. "More of a Potions brat, weren't you?"

"Why would you try to help the Dark Lord?" Draco ignored Carrow's comment and pointed his question at Fenrir. "He has no love for werewolves. He wouldn't even let you become an official Death Eater." Draco's lips curled into a cruel smile. "You were no better than a blood traitor to him. You weren't _pure_."

Fenrir's hands morphed into fists by his sides at the youngest Malfoy's words. "I will make him see differently." he spat. "I didn't go looking for him after the First Wizarding War. I let Potter fall through my hands on many occasions. I had a chance to kill Dumbledore before Snape took a shot, and didn't do it." The werewolf looked down at his shaking hands, his thick fingernails pointed and yellow. "The Dark Lord has many reasons to toss me aside. But he will accept me when I save him from his greatest fear - death."

Narcissa groaned slightly and rested her face in her hands. "You _fools_." she whispered.

"Would you like to speak up a little, _Cissy_?" Alecto called out in obnoxious sarcasm. "I'm afraid I didn't hear you."

"You _fools_!" Narcissa said loudly, dropping her hands into her lap and meeting the eyes of every wizard in the room, her own silver orbs blazing. "The Death Eaters are almost all in Azkaban. Our children's school is in ruins. Our families are dead, and every Mudblood and Ministry prat is out for revenge. We should be holding our heads high and getting through this! Not focusing on bringing back the one wizard who caused all of the strife to begin with!"

Even through Narcissa's rant, you could see how much she'd emotionally aged since the war had begun. Her pale face was gaunt and skull-like. The blonde in her inky hair was beginning to turn silver, and her frame was willowy and thin.

"Why_ would_ you _want_to bring him back?" Draco asked the trio.

"Because those who help the Dark Lord will hold power when he takes over." Rosier said simply. "He will shower gratitude on those who save him and we will rule alongside him."

"That's a damn big assumption." Draco said bluntly. "When have you ever known the Dark Lord to 'shower' anyone with gratitude? When have you ever known him to give up power?"

"He will." Fenrir argued. "And I will take the place of Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, and Bellatrix Lestrange. I will be his next trusted advisor."

"Ha!" Narcissa spat. "Have you not noticed that Snape and Bella are _dead_?" Emotion welled in her eyes. "And my husband narrowly dodged death just to be sent to Azkaban. The Dark Lord's trusted advisors do not receive pleasant ends."

"But in a new world, they will." Rosier shot back. "The Dark Lord will be weakened, and will _rely _on the followers he has left."

Silence befell the room. Draco rubbed his eyes briefly, trying to shake the feeling that his Dark Mark was slightly tingling. Absentmindly, his hand ran over the ink that wouldn't fade with any spell.

"Feel that, Drakey-boy?" Alecto smiled sickly sweetly. "That tickle that won't go away deep beneath the Mark?" She laughed. "That's because our Master won't go away. He's still here."

Draco cursed himself for showing her that he still felt the call. Frowning again, he changed the subject. "What do_I _have to do with any of this?"

"We need a place to store the fragmented soul." Rosier explained. "Somewhere of great significance to the Dark Lord, where his soul can strengthen. And there is a place in Hogwarts where that can be done...where he won't be disturbed as his power grows."

Draco nodded, already understanding. "The Chamber of Secrets." It was only logical that Salazar Slytherin's chamber would be the ideal choice.

"We need you to get it there, babe." Alecto said flirtatiously.

Narcissa stood up. "_No_! Absolutely _not! "_she insisted, slamming her frail fist down hard on the wooden table between her and Fenrir's chair to make a point. The glass vase of magically-modified silver roses shook precariously.

"_That's a_ _mis-take_." Alecto sing-songed.

Fenrir nodded. "Refusing will be the biggest mistake Draco ever makes." he growled.

Narcissa's lip curled, and her pale hand found her wand. "Threaten Draco again, and I'll make sure it's the last thing you ever do."

Fenrir smiled in amusement. "Put your wand away, you stupid cow."

"Do _not ever_ speak to my mother that way." Draco said forcefully, his voice deep and gravelly. Being an only child spoiled at a young age by his mother, and now bonding with her through the past months, Draco had become very protective of the only woman in his life who really loved him. His own inky black wand was now drawn, pointed squarely at Fenrir.

The werewolf surveyed the situation, and shrugging his shoulders, apologized. "I'm sorry for any offense." he said sarcastically, raising his hairy hands in mock defeat, "There is nothing more terrifying than a few royally pissed Malfoys. Can we please move on?"

"Absolutely not." Narcissa snapped, sliding her wand back into her robe's deep pockets. "Draco will not be a part of any of this."

"Yes he will, dear Auntie." Rosier supplied cheerily. "Because like it or not, the Dark Lord _will_ strengthen. It doesn't matter if Draco refuses to help, we will find somebody else. And when he strengthens, I believe he might have a personal grudge against _you_, won't he?"

Narcissa fell quiet.

"What's he talking about, Mother?" Draco asked slowly, trying to think. "Because of Father?"

"No, dear boy," Alecto laughed, waving off the blonde boy's reasoning. "Didn't your _mummy _ever tell you why you and her aren't rotting in Azkaban? Didn't you ever wonder why two well-known Death Eaters are still living a life of luxury in the English countryside and not being sucked dry by the Dementor's Kiss?"

Draco frowned. "I...I - no..."

Rosier smiled. "She let Potter live."

"What?"

"She asked him where you were while he laid there on the battlefield, and proclaimed him dead when he told her you were alive. Remember Potter's 'resurrection act' at the Battle? Your _mother _is the reason that the Dark Lord fell."

Draco paced back and forth in front of the magnificent fireplace. "Is this true?"

Narcissa nodded, wringing her hands. "I didn't want you to bear any of the burden, but I had to know you were okay."

"And the Dark Lord is going to be _piss-ed _when he comes back." Fenrir said dramatically. "But if he learns that young Malfoy here helps him come back to life...maybe he could be persuaded to let your mummy live."

Draco collapsed into an empty chair, rubbing his face as he tried to absorb all this new information. "What do I have to do?" he asked finally.

"Draco! _No!"_

"_Quiet_, Mother." he instructed.

"Knew you'd come around." Rosier said happily, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out an ornate box, small, but made of gold and inlaid with emeralds and diamonds. He handed it gingerly to Draco.

_"This_ is it?" Draco asked suspiciously. "His soul is in this _box_?"

"Open it." Alecto urged.

Draco narrowed his eyes, but followed the redheaded witch's order. Taking a deep breath, he flipped the heavy lid backwards. Inside the box, laid upon a bed of purple velvet, was a wickedly curved fang.

"A fang?" he asked dryly. "What the bloody hell does a fang have to with anything?"

"That's the object his soul is rooted to." Fenrir explained. "I grabbed one from the dead Baskilisk's skeleton before the war. And since Baskilisk venom is known to be one of the few things that can destroy a Horcrux -"

"-you put it inside the only thing that could destroy it." Draco said quietly, actually shocked that the meatheaded werewolf had thought it up. "That's ingenious. I admit I'm impressed."

"I actually came up with the idea." Rosier supplied haughtily, pretending to dust off invisible particles on his robes proudly.

"That I can believe." Draco rolled his silver eyes. "How do I get into the Chamber though, I don't speak Parseltongue."

"You can mimic the sounds enough for it to work." Fenrir said, waving off the matter. "That's not important right now, we can teach you later."

"Tea?" A voice piped up from behind them. All the wizards turned to see a small, shriveled-looking house elf holding a china tray bearing a teapot. "Tea for guests?" it asked again.

"Get out of here, you damn-" Rosier began angrily, but Narcissa shushed him.

"Yes, I want some tea." she snapped to the creature, shooing him away quickly once the tray had been laid down. "I need to calm my nerves." She took a deep sip of the steaming brew and sighed. "Tell me, Plieth," she said to Rosier once she laid the cup back down. "I notice you are eager to send my son into this scheme, but why not your _own _son? Cyrus is in the same year as Draco, and surely you would want that...glory...for your own family."

Rosier shrugged. "Cyrus may have inherited my good looks and charm, but I regret to say that his interests are more on getting girls into his bed than honoring his family. And although I've heard that Draco has made a reputation for himself of having similar..._pursuits_..."

Draco smirked. "More successful at those pursuits, actually, then Cyrus." he bragged.

"...he would be far less likely than Cyrus to botch his responsibility."

"Are you sure it's so that _your_ son isn't sent to Azkaban when this plan blows up in all our faces?" Narcissa seethed. "Oh no, you'd _much _rather it be my son, right?"

"Well, we did hear tell that Draco was given a spot of honor at Hogwarts this year." Rosier said calmly, casting his gaze on the silver-haired boy. "I believe congratulations are in order. It is quite a feat to be Head Boy."

Draco nodded his acceptance of Rosier's praise.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Narcissa hissed.

"He'll have a secluded dorm where he can have privacy from prying eyes. He won't look suspicious in the prefect's bathroom, and he can pretty much wander the halls without being overly questioned." Alecto explained flippantly. "It's perfect."

"Draco...I don't like this." Narcissa said softly, her eyes pleading.

"You took a chance for me, Mother. You risked your life to make sure I survived." Draco said firmly. "I'll do it for you."

"_How touching_." Fenrir sneered.

"Last question." Draco said, snapping the jeweled box closed. "What about the damned remnants of Dumbledore's Army? Potter, Weasley, and Granger have managed to stop everything else we've ever tried."

"Haven't you heard?" Rosier smiled. "Potter is in Auror training. He won't be attending his last year. Neither will Weasley, who is at home supporting his family after his brother's death and no doubt sobbing into a pillow every night like the little prat all the Weasleys are. The only one returning to Hogwarts for her last year is Hermione Granger."

"Surely you can handle one nasty little bookish _Mudblood_, Drakey-boy?" Alecto taunted, laughing girlishly.

Draco breathed a short sigh of relief. "Of course I can."

_How wrong he was._

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How was it? I'm REALLY super excited about this story idea! Sorry for mistakes, I have no editor :(

No worries, Draco won't be so cold in future chapters, and there shall be sexual tension (eek spoiler!) he's just putting on a "man of the house" show right now ;)

Other chapters won't be this long, I warn y'all. Plus, I made up the 'alternative Horcrux' thingy, so don't get on to me for skewed facts. I needed to come up with something lol! Oh and I'm American, so if I screw up British/American slang...I apologize ;p

Please leave a review! They're the only things that motivate me!

_**If you're feeling particularly nice, maybe add some words of critique or alert me of any problems/misspellings :) I want to improve as a writer, and you guys can help me do that with some praise and critiques! Don't be afraid to be harsh with me!**_

Thanks lovelies!

XOXOX

-Leather-and-Pearls


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